


Love Letter to a Twat

by Predec2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predec2/pseuds/Predec2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian Kinney's idea of a love letter is, well...unique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Letter to a Twat

_Brian Kinney's idea of a love letter is, well...unique._

 

DISCLAIMER:  QAF and its characters are the sole property of Cowlip Productions and Showtime.  No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Justin slammed the door almost violently as he came in from the adjoining garage, taking only a few seconds to throw his portfolio down on the kitchen counter.  He let out a frustrated sigh.  Why did Brian have to work late TONIGHT of all nights?  If he didn't know better, he might actually suspect his lover was purposely trying to avoid him today.  Had Brian not changed at all over the last several years?  Just when he thought they were making progress on him being more open about his emotions, he retreats back into his shell.

 

"Damn it!" he growled as he sighed heavily.  Shaking his head in resignation, he shrugged out of his jacket and, placing it on the back of a nearby chair, did what he normally did every day when he was anxious or agitated:  he walked over to the hallway closet near the front door and retrieved his favorite, paint-smudged, over-sized denim shirt and pulled it on over his tee-shirt before he trudged up the steps toward his remodeled attic studio.  Brian had insisted on spending an outrageous amount of money a year ago just before their wedding as a surprise to him, knowing how much it would mean to him to have somewhere to work on his art after he returned from New York.  As he arrived on the third floor, he opened the narrow, wooden door with the crystal handle and let out a tense breath, feeling his disappointment slowly ebbing away as he gazed at the sun-drenched, comfortable working space.  This large area was his personal sanctuary, his place to express his emotions.  Now as he peered over at his latest creation, though - an unfinished piece that he was painting for a large downtown bank's lobby area - he realized he didn't feel like even picking up a paintbrush at all.

 

His eyes narrowed on the painting as he noticed a white envelope attached to the top of his easel.  Frowning, he walked over to the structure and his heart skipped a beat as he instantly noticed the familiar scrawl of his husband's handwriting.  He had written the simple words _Open Me_ on the front.

 

Justin couldn't help the slight smile that appeared on his face as, like a child on Christmas day morning, he quickly slid his fingernail under the flap and pulled out a folded piece of paper.   It had a border of paint brushes around the letter in an "X" pattern; that was the only decoration on the white sheet but it was Brian's handwritten message that commanded his attention.  His dour mood and glum expression began to transform into something a lot happier as a goofy grin started to break out on his face when he began to read what Brian had written:

 

_Love Letter to a Twat_

**J -** I love the way your chin **JUTS** out when you don't get your way.  Of course, once you turn those baby blues on me, you win anyway.

**U** \- I love the way your passion is so **UNRESTRAINED** when we make love.

**S** \- I love the way you **SIGH** my name like a prayer when you come.

**T** \- I love your **TALENTED TONGUE** (do I get double credit for this one?) when you lick all over my body and make me crazy with desire.

**I** \- I love how **INSANELY** soft your skin is when I touch it in the shower and in bed.

**N** \- I love your **NECK** that is so perfect for leaving bites all over it as I claim you as my own.

 

**T** \- I love your **TITS** and how aroused they become when I touch them with my fingers.  (I know - sounds lesbionic, but I needed another "T" word).

**A** \- Duh?  Your **ASS** , your **ASS** , and your **ASS**.  Need I say more?

**Y** \- I love the way you **YAWN** and stretch like a blond little cat in the morning when I wake you up in your favorite way (that's one of my ‘favorites,' too, BTW).

**L** \- I love your zest for **LIFE** and the way that you make everything seem so new and fresh, even after all this time. 

**O** \- I love the **OPEN** love and affection that you show my son; no, correction, **OUR** son.

**R** \- I love the **ROUND** globes of your ass when I touch, lick, and kiss them (come on - I already told you how I love your ass, so is this really a surprise?)

 

**K** \- I LOVE the way you **kiss** me with those incredible lips as only you can do and it makes me go insane with pleasure.

**I** \- Even though I act like I'm annoyed as hell I love your **INCESSANT** chatter over dinner every night as you tell me everything that happened to you during the day (when I miss you like crazy,  BTW).

**N** \- I love the way you bite the end of your **NAIL** when you are working on a painting in your studio and studying your work.  (Did I ever tell you how hot you look when you do that?)

**N** \- You...me... **NAKED.** Again...need I elaborate on this??

**E** \- I love the way you **EAT** my ass and make me horny as hell when you stick your aforementioned talented tongue in there (I'm getting hard just thinking about it - that's how good it feels...).

**Y** \- But most of all, Justin Taylor-Kinney, I love **YOU.** Forever.  Happy 1st Year Anniversary.  Are you satisfied now, Sunshine?

P.S.  If you EVER show this or read this to another living soul, you realize I WILL have to kill you.  ~ B

 

Justin laughed, his eyes welling up with tears of happiness and love.  He hurriedly wiped a tear away from his eye with the back of his sleeve as his cell phone rang.  Smiling in anticipation, he reached into his pants pocket and glanced at the caller I.D., beaming as he raised the phone to his lips.

 

"Would this be the poet laureate of the house?" he asked politely.

 

There was a snort on the other end as Brian replied, "Come downstairs to the bedroom and I'll SHOW you the correct definition of 'poetry in motion.'  How's this for a start?  _Sunshine's in luck - whenever we fuck."_

 

Justin didn't have to see his husband to hear the amusement in his voice.  "How romantic," he told him dryly.  "How can I resist such lyrical mastery?  I'll be right down.  By the way, what happened to you working late?"

 

"I AM working late," was the reply.  "Working late to keep you happy.  Now get your ass - and the other letters of your name - down here _now_."

 

Justin's heart did a somersault at the sexy command.  "Coming," he said with a chuckle as Brian groaned at the corny comeback.  "At least I will be."  He snapped the phone shut and started to place it back in his pants, but thought better of it.  "Hell with it," he muttered as he quickly undid his zipper and dragged his pants down his legs, toeing off his shoes and socks to discard his clothing.  He had managed to shed everything but his Calvin Kleins by the time he had reached the door to his studio.

 

He made it to his and Brian's bedroom in record time as he noticed the door slightly ajar.  Pushing it open slowly, he was greeted with several phenomenal sights and sounds:  soft music playing through their whole-house speaker system, a domed, silver, oval platter resting on the padded bench at the end of their bed containing some sort of food, and candles of all sizes and shapes resting everywhere there was a flat surface - on their dresser, on the fireplace mantel, on the bookshelves, on the window seat that looked out over the back of their property.  On the floor appeared to be some sort of flower petal - not a rose but familiar somehow.  Justin had to reach down and scoop up a few of them before he realized what the petals were from - golden gardenias.  Brian, however, was nowhere to be found.

 

"Brian?" he called out softly just before he thought he heard water.  "Are you in the bathroom?"

 

"Come and look," was the sexy invitation, making Justin's cock twitch at the double meaning.  "Or come and even better - join me.  Oh, and NO peeking at the food, either!"

 

Justin's hand stilled as he was about to do just that; rolling his eyes, he walked slowly toward the open doorway of their spacious master bathroom, following the golden trail that had been laid out for him.  As soon as he poked his head in the doorway, he spotted where the flowery path ended:  at a monstrous-sized, garden bathtub.  His eyes widened in shock.  "Brian...Where?  How?" he sputtered.

 

Brian, stretched out full length in the tub, grinned at his lack of glibness.  "Contractors, Sunshine.  Extremely _high-paid_ contractors.  Amazing what a lot of money will accomplish in such a short time."

 

Justin shook his head in amazement.  He had made no secret of his desire to have a nice, big, soaking tub in their home, but Brian had adamantly refused, calling it a "shrine for lesbians and homo queens."   Apparently, however, something had happened to change his mind.  "I thought you hated the idea of a bath tub in here."  He noticed that the large closet that had originally been where the tub was now had been completely gutted.  He had always maintained to Brian that they didn't _need_ the additional closet in the bathroom - their walk-in closet had more than enough space for both their clothes as well as towels and other bathroom items - but he never thought he would see his idea come to fruition.

 

"Well, I did; I still _do_ ," he maintained as he stared into Justin's face.  The look of open delight he noticed there, however, more than made up for his hesitation.  Anything that brought that sort of smile and light to his lover's eyes was fine with him.  Besides, as he sat there waiting for Justin to show up, the jets pulsating around his body as they soothed his tense muscles, he began to realize that this might not be such a bad idea after all.

 

"Take those K-Mart briefs off right now and grab that bottle of champagne over there," Brian told him, nodding over toward the vanity that was awash with the soft glow of candlelight.

 

Justin grinned as he turned and went to retrieve a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice bucket and two crystal flutes.  Just before he reached for them, he hastily discarded his underwear, and turning to reveal to his husband just how much the idea of joining him in their new tub appealed to him, he walked over to the marble steps of the built-in tub to join him.

 

Placing the flutes and champagne down on the top ledge, Brian reached his hand up to grasp Justin's as if he were going to help him into the water.  Justin squeaked in surprise as Brian gave him an unexpected yank and he promptly fell into his open arms, tangling his legs with his as he fell on top of his husband's chest.

 

"Brian," Justin gently scolded him, noticing his husband's little-boy look of mischievousness.  He placed his hands on Brian's chest, palm down, his desire obvious by the way his hardened cock was trapped between their bodies.  He noticed to his satisfaction, though, that he wasn't the _only_ one that was turned on at the moment as he gazed down into the playful hazel eyes.  "You always _do_ have to make a big splash, don't you?" he teased him.

 

Brian reached between their bodies to place Justin's hand around his shaft as he told him, "VERY big.  You haven't forgotten, have you?  Mr. Cocky, this is Justin.  Justin - Mr. Cocky.  He's very pleased to make your acquaintance."  

 

Justin giggled as he gave Brian's dick a squeeze.  "No," he told him.  "I haven't forgotten _Mr. Cocky._ But it's always nice to be reminded - over and over again."

 

Brian smiled at him as he reached over to grab the champagne bottle and, after managing to open it, poured some of the bubbly liquid into the two flutes.  Grabbing one by the stem, he brought it over to Justin's mouth and said, "A toast."

 

Justin grinned at him as he opened his mouth and let Brian pour some of the liquid in his mouth.  Brian chugged down a good portion of the champagne, also, before he placed the flute back down on the ledge and turned to look at Justin, whose face was inches away from his.  His eyes were reflected in the candles from the bathroom vanity, and his face had a sort of golden glow from the flickering flames.  Brian's heart caught in his throat at the beautiful sight as his face transformed from something playful to a more heartfelt expression.

 

Justin noticed the sea change in Brian's face as his husband grasped him by the shoulders and silently stared into his eyes.  His own hands moved to wrap themselves around Brian's slippery, wet back as he heard him say, "Here's to us, Sunshine.  And here's to a lifetime of anniversaries.   But I won't promise any more love letters - got it?"

 

Justin smiled.  "That's okay," he assured him, thinking of how the first one had made him feel, especially coming from someone like Brian - the man who had maintained a reputation for so long of never being able to love but who now loved him, Justin Taylor-Kinney, deeply, just like he loved HIM in return.  "This one was more than enough."


End file.
